I'm a little upset by the statistics for this story. It's gotten 2000+ hits so far, and only 12 reviews. Reviews are what motivate me to continue writing. If I know my work is being appreciated, I'll want to continue.

Just saying. ||OTL

Also, I have great(?) news! We're nearing an end to this story, so you'll finally know what happens between Popo and Russia. /slap'd

I'm thinking maybe one or two more chapters after this one, depending on how far I get.


Ever since the mishaps with Gilbert, it had actually been quite peaceful for the Russian. With Alfred hospitalized, his little sister mourning, and Gilbert gaining a new found fear of him, there was nothing to get in Ivan's way of relaxation – except Feliks, that is.

"Ivan~" Feliks skipped down the linoleum-tiled floor towards the Russian, a huge smile plastered on his face. After finding out that Ivan cared enough to attack someone on his behalf, Feliks had become a lot more clingy. He had the strange idea that the two were friends. Completely absurd, right?

Ivan let out a small sigh before shutting his locker and turning to the giddy blonde.

"Da?"

"You're like, coming over to my house after school, right?"

"What?"

"Yeah, you were like, coming over to my house. It'll be totally fabulous."

"Nyet." Ivan said, before turning away and starting down the hall.

"Aw, c'mon, Ivan. Don't be like that." Feliks whined, following close behind. "Besides, you like, promised! I got a new pony that you tots have to see. He's so adorable." Feliks then started to make horse impersonations to try and show Ivan what he was missing out on, thoroughly embarrassing the Russian as others began to take notice.

"Fine-! Just stop." Ivan half-yelled, turning his head towards the Pole.

"Yay!" Feliks clapped his hands together in excitement. "Wanna know what will make it even better?"

"Not really." Ivan sighed. Feliks leaned closer to his face so that his breath could be felt against Ivan's neck.

"My parents won't be home~" He whispered lustrously. Ivan felt heat rise to his cheeks in generous amounts. Did Feliks mean for that to sound as sexual as it did? He hoped to God that he didn't. He swallowed thick before shaking the thought out of his head.

"Whatever." Ivan choked, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible because the thought didn't turn him on in the slightest. No, of course not. That would be absurd. Completely, utterly absurd, for Ivan wasn't gay, nor would he ever be gay. So what if he had never had feelings for a girl, he'd never had feelings for a guy, either. He had come to the conclusion that he was just incapable of feeling love, and nothing had changed. He was still the same heartless being as everyone accused him of being.

He wasn't sure how Feliks had reacted to his sudden coldness towards him, he just kept walking, feeling nothing but numbness as it spread through his system.


It was lunch, but Ivan couldn't eat. Even with skipping breakfast, and dinner the night before, he just couldn't get himself to eat. Something was twisting inside his chest, something he couldn't quite understand. Did it have something to do with what Feliks said? Ivan asked himself, leaning his head against the hard brick of the school walls. Or is it because Feliks has feelings for me? And what exactly are those feelings? He was so confused. So confused and frustrated at not being able to understand what was going on in his head, in his chest.

He let out a small sigh, deciding that it was best to not fret over what he didn't understand and try to move on. It had always worked before, so why not now?


"Hurry up, slowpoke!" Feliks ordered from five feet away, on the verge of running to his house in excitement. Ivan couldn't comprehend what was so invigorating about going over to someone's house. Despite his confusion, a small smile crept onto his lips as he began to quicken his pace, shoving his large hands into the front pockets of his tan trench coat. A small cloud of condensation circled his face as he let out a content sigh.

The rest of the walk to Feliks consisted of the blonde yelling at the Russian to move faster, with Ivan reluctantly complying. When the blonde boy flung his front door open and practically skipped into the room, Ivan couldn't help the small wave of nervousness that was running through him. Feliks had said they'd be alone to do whatever the wanted, and the lust hidden in his voice only left the Russian wondering on what the Pole's true intentions were. He hated to admit it, but it made him horribly uncomfortable.

Feliks motioned for Ivan to follow him up the stairs – to his bedroom, no doubt. The thought of what could happen any moment was disturbing yet, shamefully enticing, although Ivan downright refused to admit it.

Once entering the blonde's room – which consisted of pink walls, and multiple pictures of ponies – Feliks turned around with a smile plastered on his face. Ivan sat uncomfortably on the large king-sized bed, which the Pole following suit.

"So," Feliks prodded, "What'cha wanna do first." He asked, leaning in closer. Ivan felt himself shifting ever-so-slightly in the opposite direction.

"You wanted to show me your pony, da?"

"Yeah," he pouted, "But that can wait, can't it?"

"I don't think-" Ivan was abruptly cut off of his protests when soft pale lips dusted across his. His startled amethyst eyes came in contact with lust-filled emerald ones, only enticing Feliks more. He leaned in, closing the gate between the too. Ivan let out a muffled cry as he tried to pull away, but his body wouldn't co-operate. Instead, he found himself returning the kiss, if not, deepening slightly. Feliks took the opportunity to run his hands though the Russian's ash-blonde strands, twisting his fingers around them. Slowly, he slid himself into the large man's lap, straddling his hips as he ran a smooth tongue along Ivan's bottom lip. When Ivan gasped in surprise, Feliks took the opportunity to invade the former's mouth with his slick appendage, running it over every crevice, tasting every area of the hot cavern he had access to. Ivan sat there, stiff and wide-eyed, unsure of how he should react to the man penetrating his mouth. Feliks rubbed his tongue against Ivan's as if encouraging him to take part in the passion.

Finally giving in to the overpowering feeling taking over him, Ivan allowed himself to reciprocate the kiss, moving his tongue alongside Feliks' and fighting for dominance. Slowly, the two disconnected, a trail of saliva hung between the two as they panted for air. Without hesitation, Feliks leaned back in, attacking the Russian's mouth as he pushed him down onto the bed. Confused, Ivan complied, overwhelmed yet slightly turned on. What is going on? What is this pounding in my chest, and why can't I get myself to move? I don't want to do this! I can't do this! His mind screamed, yet his body stayed in place as he passionately kissed the Pole. He felt nimble fingers begin to work on the buttons of his trench coat as Ivan helplessly laid there, incapable of reacting properly. He wanted to stop, he wanted to stop so badly but something inside of him willed him further. He shoved one of his hands under the blonde's shirt letting his rough fingers glide over the surprisingly toned chest. No! His mind screamed, desperate to stop.

In one swift moment, Ivan managed to push the blonde off of him as he sat up, viciously wiping his mouth. Feliks looked at him, the hurt obvious in his expression.

"Like, what's wrong-?"

"Everything!" Ivan yelled, standing up, "I can't do this! I don't-" Ivan's mind raced for the right thing to say, he was so confused, yet so upset about letting that happen. "I don't love you." he muttered quietly, fingering the doorknob. In an instant, the door slammed shut behind the heavyset Russian as he descended the stairs and raced out the front door.

To Feliks, those words stung like a knife.


For weeks Ivan refused to make any form of contact with the Pole. He had skipped a week of school, and when he finally decided to return, he had not once given Feliks as much as a small side-glance. It was deteriorating his insides. He felt like he was about to explode from the pain in his chest.

All he wanted to do was love Ivan.


Everyday Ivan would walk down the halls in pain. He didn't understand what the reason was, but his chest ached whenever he saw that blonde male in the halls. He refused to look at him, for when he did, the pain only grew. His mind continuously raced as his heart pounded in his ears. He was so confused. How could one man make him feel like that? Especially one he didn't care for?

Was there something wrong with him, or just something that he was incapable of comprehending? Ivan was determined to find out.


What smoke was I cracking?

I honestly have no idea where this came from.

I was in a weird angsty mood.

I find this very repetitive.

I'll probably edit it tomorrow, but for now, I'll upload it raw.

Oh yeah, and sorry it's short. I didn't know how else to continue this chapter, but I have an idea about what will happen in the next!